


The Office of Extraordinary Occurrences

by RV_Qkpndj



Category: Original Work
Genre: Eldritch, Gen, Horror, Lovecraftian, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23212984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RV_Qkpndj/pseuds/RV_Qkpndj
Summary: Two agents find what they are looking for and then some.
Kudos: 1
Collections: A Collection Of Short Stories





	The Office of Extraordinary Occurrences

A calm gust swept about the city street. The sun of late summer hung low in the sky, striking a blood-red hue in the sky. Porter Avenue was located in a quiet and sleepy spot of The New Orange Township. Kids play games in the street and people lazily strolled to their residents not wanting to miss the beauty of the sunset. An outmoded car observed the scene. Its occupants study the street and the people going about their business. No one acknowledged the car as if it wasn’t really there. 

“Hour thirteen,” the man grumbled, “Thirteen long hours and still nothing!” He threw up his hands, punching the dashboard, and gripping the steering wheel.

“Take it easy, Wolfheart,” the woman looked over at the incredibly bored man. 

The man and woman were dressed in black suits. The heat of the day had the woman out of her dress jacket, showing off her golden left vest. Her webbing and holster in full view, the shine of her gun glistened in the waning sunlight.

“Kirkpatrick, I always take it easy,” he struck an extravagant pose, exaggerating his arms and face. Agent Kirkpatrick raised a single eyebrow.

“Whatever. Whatever man.”

“You can’t tell me this isn’t boring?”

“It is. It is indeed boring. But it is our job.”

“I just want one real case. With monsters and wizards and shit.”

“It isn’t my fault you lost to Agent Sugar and Agent Hirsch. I told not to take that bet and here we are! We lost both Oregon and Delmarva. Now here we are baking in this car while our mark- “

“-is walking right towards us,” Wolfheart pointed to a young man coasting along the sidewalk. His face was easygoing a smile greeted every passerby and a pep was in his step. The sun illuminated his dark hair into a bright halo. The agents watch intently as the man strolls passed their car. He turns to a tall apartment building, “Jack Philips Memorial Townhouses & Apartments,” it sits at the intersection of Porter Ave. and Eldritch Drive. He fiddles with a key ring, counting each key off, his face shows exactly what he is thinking. He found what he was looking for and opened the lobby door, disappearing through the doorway. Kirkpatrick’s foot stops the door from closing fully and both her and her compatriot sneak into the lobby. They hear their mark stomping up the stairs and singing a ridiculous pop song. They tail him to the 9th floor, watching him from beyond their vantage point: they see him enter the furthermost door. The Agents only approach when the door clicks closed.

“After all this time. We have him now!” Wolfheart breathes.

“Shhh, let me work my magic,” Kirkpatrick shushes him. 

“I will cover you, work fast,” Wolfheart blocks the view of the stairwell. Breathing deeply, focusing her third eye, she mutters a strange incantation under her breath. Slowly all the locks on the other side of the door come undone. 

“Click.”

“Click.”

“Click.”

The lights in the hallway flicker, Kirkpatrick’s nose begins to bleed, and the path is cleared. 

“Are you okay, Zoe?” her partner whispers softly in her ear.

“Yes, just a little blood,” she gives him a smile. 

A crash snaps their heads to the bowels of the apartment. They unholster their guns and stalk in. The inside of the flat is off-putting, like a presence hangs over them, watching them, and following behind. Most of the rooms they pass are empty, no furniture, no posters or pictures on the walls, clean with no signs of life. 

“I thought the report said he lived with a family,” Wolfheart is weirded out by the layout. 

“It did.”

Another crash came from what looked to be a kitchen. A light clicks on in the room. The Agents rush in gun at the ready. A man sits at the round table, his feet propped on the surface, a carton of vanilla ice cream in his hand. A smirk is resting coolly on his cocked head.

“Agents,” he nods.

“Victor “Vicky” Ruiz?”

“I am he,” he waves his hand in a peculiar fashion.

“You are wanted for questioning,” Wolfheart and Kirkpatrick round the table, guns trained on Vicky’s head. The man laughs and giggles with glee. 

“Zoey Dawn Kirkpatrick, Age 21, Investigator Officer First Class Office of Extraordinary Occurrences, graduated from MIT when you were 15, you lived with your father and aunt until you were 17, at 12 you saw a strange old man raise a cat back from the dead in the heart of the forest. Just 2 odd years ago a man in a blue tailored suit asked you if you believe in magic. Now you are here,” his smile was toothy. The Agent stops in her tracks.

“How do you know ANY of that!” she shoves her gun at him.

“I know a lot of things. Isn’t that right Joshua William Wolfheart? Investigator Officer Second Class Office of Extraordinary Occurrences, Age 25, a husband and kids at your New Orleans home, joined the OXO when you stopped a slimy yellow sludge from eating a man in a back alley. That man was your mentor, died trying to save a family in a mysterious house fire. You remember that?” he giggled as he stuffed a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.

“What the hell are you, monster!” 

“I will show you…”

His mouth opened and opened and opened, snapping his jaw and leaving a gaping hole in the sides of his face as it ripped open. His body deflated like a hot air balloon, arms came out the holes in his head, another face poked out with an unnatural smile, and then legs were produced. A tall skinny man (a nightmarish version of the skin bag) stood before them. The teeth in his skull are long, yellow, and shiny. His hair was wavy, shot out in all directions, and was as black as an empty, endless, abyss. His skin was dark but lack the color of the living. His fingers look more like claws than fingers. He also dawned a black pinstriped two-piece suit, with slick black shoes, and a purple tie that matched his glowing eyes. 

“My name is ………,” his mouth moved, but no sound escaped. Looking at their confused expressions he ceased mid-sentence.

“Oops, you can call me Jiick’Xhaul of the Jultdrazi,” he giggled. 

“I am a Young One, a Tzi'zhan, I am a being of the Multiverse!” he moved about the room, “I used to be like you,” he booped Wolfheart on his nose, “A fleshy meat puppet.”

“Do you ever shut up, Jigsaw, Jickzaw, or whatever your name is,” Wolfheart probed.

“Jiick’Xhaul, but that is close enough. I have to ask; were you going to shoot me? Come in here and arrest me? I have seen that trumpery play pin you call a “Prison” under your headquarters. 

Couldn’t keep a star devourer in. You guys need my help,” his long fingers framed his face as he talked and walked around his guests.

“Why would we do that?” Kirkpatrick lowered her gun.

“I, too, am a jailer. Interdimensional criminals; from crooked specters to obnoxious 2-d shapes that will get what is coming to him, if I ever get my hands on him, I’ll…,” his head turned to look at them mid-rant. He waved it off with an impish grin, “I can help you.”

“We are going to need more than your promises,” Wolfheart affirmed, “like, a lot more.”

“Okay, alright, I see what you are puttin’ down,” he swung around to a cupboard and produced two glowing jewels, “These will protect you better than those amateur tattoos you got. Don’t ask where I got them, it’s a secret.” 

He handed them each a jewel. Their color shifted as they turned them and reacted to any light source, scattering it across the room like a disco ball. Both Agents felt their badge holders vibrate violently. 

“This thing must be extraordinarily powerful!” Wolfheart exclaimed. He fished his wallet out of his pocket and nearly dropped it. The leather-bound badge shook like an earthquake. 

“It seems your badges can detect magical power,” Jiick’Xhaul materialized behind them, a black and red book was in his hands, 

“This is for you, Young Witch. I admire your spell work from earlier. This will help you in your witchy ways,” he pressed the book into her hands, “Consider it a peace offering, a sign I mean no harm.”

“Um, thank you. All of this, is, uh, unexpected,” she eyed the book with curiosity. 

“You guys should be used to this. Are you not from the “Office of Extraordinary Occurrences?” His chuckle filled his belly. 

“Okay, this is nice and all, but I don’t trust you. We will work with you, but any and I mean any shady shit, I will blow your head right off,” Wolfheart glared him down. 

“Fine, by me, Sheriff. I kno you are itching to tell your boss,” he tilted his head towards the door, “Go tell him.”

“Come on Zoe. We are leaving.”

“Right, we will keep in touch,” Kirkpatrick flipped through the unorthodox tome. They edged towards the front door never taking their eyes from the “man”. The lanky form persisted in the stark light, his smile boor many sharp yellow teeth, Kirkpatrick sighted his right hand. A symbol she has seen before flashed from her memory. 

The Mark of Vasuiome, The Veiled Queen Wrapped In Purple!

The door slammed at its own will, pulling her back to reality. Clicks and ticks could be heard as the door locked itself. 

“Apartment 410, we should remember that.” 

Kirkpatrick distractedly nodded at her partner.

“Hey, Zoe is everything alright?”

“No. We need to call Halimen.”

“Yeah, I was goin-“

“No! Right now! This is serious!” Kirkpatrick was already halfway down the stairs. Wolfheart called out to her;

“What is going on! Kirkpatrick! Zoe!”

\------------O.X.O. Handbook------------  
Chapter 1  
Section 6  
Encountering Supernatural Beings  
When encountering an interdimensional oddity, it is your job to contain it, incapacitate it (if necessary), or if possible, destroy it. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES should you try to reason with or bargain with these supernatural entities. Remember BACK UP is only a call away.  
25


End file.
